Old Chen liked to tap his cane loudly before speaking.
He said it made the kids pay attention — but really, he just enjoyed being the centre of focus.
The children had gathered again near the temple clearing. The air smelled like pine and steamed yam from the nearby kitchens. A few bees drifted lazily through the air, and Yun Long swatted one away as he sat cross-legged beside a crooked tree stump.
"All of you stink," Old Chen began, his tone cheerful and cruel. "Even your breathing's crooked."
A few boys groaned.
"Don't complain! You think cultivation is for pampered lotus eaters?" He rapped the stump with his cane. "Now sit straight and open your ears. We'll talk about the stages."
---
Yun Long sat up a little taller.
He liked Old Chen. The man was grumpy, but funny. And he told the best stories.
"There are nine stages to body cultivation," Old Chen began, raising one finger. "At least, that's what the books say. First stage is Body Strengthening. That's where you lot are now — you stretch, you breathe, you squat, and cry about sore legs."
Some kids chuckled. Yun Long smiled.
"Second is Muscle Refining — when your arms and legs stop feeling like wet noodles."
"Third stage, Bone Tempering — makes your bones denser. No more breaking legs from chasing chickens."
A louder laugh this time.
"Fourth is Blood Vitality. That one's tricky. You'll sweat black gunk and think you're dying. You're not."
Yun Long blinked. That didn't sound nice.
"Fifth stage: Internal Flow. That's when you start feeling the Qi in your body, like a river in your chest. Get to this stage, and people might stop calling you a lazy worm."
"Sixth: Meridian Opening. Hurts like being struck by a drunken horse, but you'll be able to circulate your Qi."
Old Chen paused to sip water. The kids leaned in.
"Seventh is Qi Channeling. You can push Qi through limbs or weapon. Eighth: Core Breathing. You form a dantian — a Qi center."
"Last?" Old Chen grinned. "Ninth is Foundation Rooting. That's when you stop being a village brat and start being a real cultivator."
A hush fell over the children.
It all sounded so... big.
"Don't get excited," the old man added. "Most of you will get stuck at the second or third stage, maybe fourth if you're lucky and stop eating sticky buns before training."
Yun Long nodded like he understood. He didn't.
He just liked the idea of being strong enough to help Old Yun more, or to stop tripping when chasing ducks.
---
Training resumed after the lecture.
The exercises were still basic: deep stances, steady breathing, slow movements. Nothing mystical. Just hard, slow work.
Yun Long enjoyed it — even if his legs trembled halfway through.
But then… came the incident.
---
The children were told to gather fresh water from the hill stream after practice — a regular chore.
Yun Long went with two others, carrying buckets tied with frayed rope. They chatted about roasted chestnuts on the way and teased each other as they crossed the grassy ridge.
The stream wasn't far.
But Yun Long, curious as ever, wandered a few steps further down than usual — just to see if the frogs had returned to the mossy pool.
That's when his foot slipped.
Not far. Not steep.
But enough to tumble sideways into a shallow dip, where a pile of rocks had settled from last season's flood.
He yelped and landed hard, scraping his elbow on a stone.
"Ow—"
A soft hiss came from beneath the stones.
He froze.
A thin green snake slithered from under a leaf. Not big, not venomous, just startled.
Yun Long scrambled back, heart thumping, bucket rolling out of his hand.
The other boys ran over.
"You okay?!"
"I—I think so." He sat up slowly, checking his arm. A shallow cut, already drying. "Just slipped. And a snake."
The boys laughed nervously. "You're lucky. That's only a grass snake. Probably more scared of you."
Yun Long laughed too, shakily. "Yeah. I scared it on purpose."
They helped him up, filled the buckets, and returned with muddy legs and wild tales of wrestling river beasts. No one believed them, of course.
But no one questioned it either.
It was just… a normal day.
---
That night, Old Yun applied salve to his son's elbow and shook his head. "You fall into more holes than a mole."
Yun Long grinned. "Only small ones!"
Madam Su brought him rice with dried fish and made him promise not to go near the rocks again. He agreed easily and drifted to sleep after dinner, dreaming not of snakes or Qi — but of roasted chestnuts and cloud-chickens.
---